Horribly Right
by MarvelNerd01
Summary: "Steve Rogers stood tall, grass riding up past his ankles. His face presented stoicism, but he was far from prepared for the choice he had made." or Steve goes back in time to be with Tony instead of Peggy because it's fanfic and we can do what we please
1. Chapter 1

Steve Rogers stood tall, grass riding up past his ankles. His face presented stoicism, but he was far from prepared for the choice he had made. He was tired, god he was tired. He knew what he wanted to do, but he couldn't leave Bucky here. How was it fair to leave his best friend in a time he doesn't belong in knowing what damages it had done to himself so long ago.

"I'm gonna miss you, buddy," Bucky said with a choked voice.

"It'll be alright," he says because he doesn't know what else to say. He hates that he's doing this, leaving him alone. A part of him wishes they were teenagers in the Brookline apartment again, dancing slowly to Benny Goodman with the blinds drawn. That life was gone, he had lived it.

Steve Rogers was not the same man he was in 1930. He has seen tragedies he thought he would never survive to see and fought in battles with gods. Sure, a part of his heart would always remain in Brookline with Bucky and his coy, boyish grin, but his heart belonged to someone else now. Nausea still swarmed in his stomach as he proved to Bucky he had not forgotten their life together, how much he had meant to him.

"Don't do anything stupid until I get back," He says, swallowing back the tears.

"How can I," he smiles, long brown hair shining in the sunlight cast through the trees, "you're taking all the stupid with you."

They collapse into an embrace, but it's not one of sadness. It's one of acceptance and long sated love, and Steve pulls away with tears in his eyes. He doesn't take his eyes off of Bucky until he's on the platform.

He returns the infinity stones with great difficulty, and by the time he is ready to travel to his final destination, he is bone tired. Steve looks down at the final bottle of Pym particles in his suit and taps the final coordinates.

With a deep inhale of the city air, he observes his surroundings. The New York skyline is undamaged and wonderful, trees lining the sidewalks and happy people walking on them.

He turns to the building in front of him, painfully familiar yet so different.

Tall and proud the Stark Tower stands, oval and sleek. His feet glide over the pathway to the entrance with false confidence. The main office is different than the Avengers tower one; cleaner and flashier with more woman sitting at reception desks.

"How can I help you, sir?" one says.

He taps his fingers nervously on the steel, "I am here to see Tony Stark."

She laughs, "Well Mr. Stark doesn't just take visitors, sir, not without an appointment."

Steve nods, "Yes ma'am, can you tell him Steve Rogers is here to speak with him?"

Her eyes go wide, and he can tell she doesn't believe him, but she sends him up the elevator anyway. The ride is painfully slow.

"JARVIS, what's the temp of the core in here?" Steve nearly melts. It's Tony's voice, young and smooth as ever. He squeezes his eyes tight to try and clear his head.

"Sir, you have a visitor at the door," JARVIS says.

"I'm not scheduled for any visitors today, get them out." he doesn't look up from the bomb casing he's working on.

"Sir, I believe you will want to speak with him." JARVIS timidly says.

Steve can feel Tony's eyes rolling as he turns around, face covered in oil and sweat. Steve reminds himself to breathe.

"Who the hell are you?" he asks, wiping the grease with a cloth.

"Steve Rogers." He waits, and Tony laughs in his face.

Steve explains as much as he can. He explains the Ice and who finds his body ten years from now, and how he is from the future. He explains the time traveling, but avoids everything about the Avengers, they have to figure that out together. He gives personal details about Howard to prove himself and it works, but Tony seems extremely flustered.

"So why did you come, cap? The future huh? Am I an asshole there too?" he cocks an eyebrow.

Steve's eyes glisten red as he smiles, "The biggest."

Steve gazes out over the lake water, tired legs resting on the bench. He observes the shine of the orange sunlight and waits for the inevitable. He is at absolute peace.

Sam sits cautiously beside him and remains quiet for a moment.

"Did something go horribly wrong, or right?"

Steve smiles but doesn't answer. His wedding ring is heavy on his finger.

"I'm happy for you," Sam says. Steve nods.

"I have something for you," he takes the shield and hands it over, shades of metal gleaming.

Sam takes it and holds it, Steve thinks it suits him very well.

"How's it feel?" he asks.

"Like someone else's."

"It's not," Steve fiddles with his ring.

Sam pauses and looks at the ring, "You want to tell me about her?" he asks, corner of his lip turning.

"No," Steve says, picturing Tony's grin, "No I don't think I will."

Though his muscles are worn, and his face is wrinkled, his memory is sharp, so he closes his bright blue eyes and recalls one more memory.

He holds Tony close, arms wrapped around each other as the dance to the music. They built a life for themselves here, and maybe there are no aliens to kill and no bad guys to catch, but they are happy. Steve brushes a few of Tony's early grey hairs from his face and smiles.

"What's the matter Rogers, am I getting too old for even the hundred-year-old man himself?"

Steve pulls him impossibly closer, their noses touching. "I love you, Tony," he breathes gently, savoring every moment he has with him.

"No mood for humor then, alright," he teases, but brings them into a slow kiss as they move together to the music, golden rings laced together.


	2. Bonus Chapter

It had been a year since Steve had come back to Tony. They easily slipped into a pattern of friendship, and rarely went without each other. Steve would sip black coffee and sketch as Tony worked on the latest weapon design, both of them chatting away and laughing. Steve had never been so happy in his life, and he was deep into love. He wanted more, but if that never happened he would come to terms with it because Tony was alive and with him and that's all that mattered to him.

Sometimes he could swear Tony saw it in him, with the way he smirked and tilted his head when he caught Steve staring. His brown eyes would twinkle and he would run a hand through his hair. Steve fell a little more in love every time.

"You want to catch dinner, cap?" Tony asks him, walking out from his lab and into the living room where Steve sat.

"Sure, when do we leave?" Steve says.

"Well you know I was thinking somewhere a little fancier that old sweatpants and a S.H.I.E.L.D shirt."

Steve looks up from his book and sees Tony, dressed in a fancy suit and dark black hair gelled back with a fresh shave.

Steve took a few deep breaths and stood. "I'll change then" and Tony gave him a satisfied smirk.

He combed his hair at least three times and took far too long to pick the suit he was wearing. It was his favorite suit, it showed off his broad shoulders, so he glanced nervously in the mirror one last time and stepped out of the bathroom.

Tony was pouring champagne into two glasses. "Hope you don't mind, I thought we could have a pre-dinner drink?"

Steve took his glass, "sure." They clinked their glasses together.

"To cryofreezing, time travel, and tailored suits," Tony said, running his eyes up Steve's suit.

They each took a sip, and even though Steve couldn't get drunk, his face was warm.

"So," Tony said, gesturing for them to sit on the couch. "Indulge me, what was, or will I be, like in the future?" he took another sip.

Steve played with the glass in his hand, "you were the most selfless, bravest, smartest man I ever knew." he said, swallowing in his dry throat.

"Selfless, huh?" Tony kicked his feet on the glass center table, "think you have the wrong guy."

Steve smiled sadly, but forced out a laugh, "you have no idea." The room fell silent for a moment, each of them considering the words spoken.

"Let's get dinner then," Tony said smoothly, placing his empty glass on the table with a clink.

Dinner was nice. They had a private table in the back room, candle lit in the center and Steve couldn't shake how romantic this all felt. They talked about normal things, but quieter and somehow more serious. Tony was clearly tipsy by the end of the meal, but not enough so he didn't know what he was doing, in fact, it seemed to make him more confident.

They walked back into the mansion laughing together, and as soon as they got in Tony looked at the ceiling and said, "JARVIS, play my music."

Apparently, he had created a playlist, because ACDC started blaring on the house speakers and soon Tony had ripped off his jacket and was dancing, followed by Steve who grinned as Tony tried to teach him how to do it.

Minutes, hours, Steve didn't know how much time passed, but Tony was out of breath and smiling, and the song switched.

It was a slow song, classical, and Tony clearly hadn't put it on the playlist because he looked confused at the ceiling. Steve didn't have much time to think about it though, because

Tony was taking cautious steps toward him and carefully reaching out a hand.

"Steve, I know when you grew up…" he stumbled for the first time that night, "things were different, you couldn't do this kind of stuff but," Tony looked deep into Steve's eyes, balls of brown filled with hope and apprehension, but he leaned in slowly and kissed Steve on the lips feather light.

Steve didn't hesitate, just kissed him harder and held him closer and closer. His mind spun and his heart clenched and he thought he was going to drown in the kiss-

"Steve, Steve," Tony said a little panicked, pulling away slightly. He ran a hand over Steve's cheek and it came back wet. "Steve what's wrong, I'm sorry I shouldn't have assumed-"

But Steve cut him off again and sobbed into a kiss, not wanting to let go, not wanting to explain. All his emotions from before came crashing through him all at once and the tears streamed down his face. His lungs were screaming for air as he sobbed through it, but Tony kissed back a little harder.

"Steve hey," he finally said when they pulled away. Tony hesitated for a long moment before the realization hit him. He pulled Steve into a hug as hard as he could and stroked his hair as he shook. He pulled away and looked directly into the ocean of red-rimmed blue in front of him.

"I died, didn't I," He says bluntly, and Steve pulls him tighter. Tony guides them to the couch and they sit, sharing salty kisses and gentle promises through the night as the music grows quiet.


	3. I Love You

It was a (semi) quiet day in the shop. Steve dragged a chunk of charcoal across the canvas, trying with every move to perfectly capture how Tony's eyebrows curled when he figured out a problem, how his hands skillfully crafted pieces of machinery, and how his muscles curled under his Black Sabbath shirt.

Tony's head bobbed up and down as he hummed to Thunderstruck over the blaring speakers while Steve simply watched him and smiled. Steve checked his watch, almost two in the morning. He stood slowly and crept around the back of the shop, then quietly snaked his arms around Tony's sweaty torso and tucked his face into his shoulder.

"It's time for bed," he said, nuzzling closer. Steve had never been one for physical comfort, but after everything that happened, he was so happy and grateful to have Tony in his life he took every opportunity possible to get close. Tony pretended not to care and kept working, but he leaned into the touch anyway.

"Not done yet capsicle," he said, more loudly than necessary screwing in a nut. "Gotta wrap up this project or Peps gonna get pissed off."

Steve persisted, and, no words needed, gently pried Tony's hand off the wrench and kissed him.

"This is extortion," Tony said through his lips, "You're the reason I'm not getting this done, you tell Pepper that when she releases her wrath."

"I'll be sure to," Steve said, untangling himself and packing up his art supplies.

"What did you draw?" Tony asked.

"The usual," he said, pulling the cover over his notebook.

"Which is?"

"Oh you know, 1940's stuff."

Tony gave him a disbelieving smile and snatched it from his hands. Against Steve's persistent request, Tony flipped through the pages and saw countless sketches of himself. In clothes, he didn't recognize, with people he didn't know, and a little girl and teenage boy frequently placed at his side. Tony's smile dropped.

"Who are they, Steve? Tell me about them."

"You know I can't do that." He said, voice gentle and commanding.

Tony was fascinated by the little girl. Her hair was dark like his, and she smiled up at him in his arms. His own hair was laced with white patches and behind him stood what seemed to be endless acres of trees and lake. In the girl's arms was the helmet of the suit he had seen in the other drawings. Something about her drew Tony to her, and so his fingers followed every line of the paper trying to recognize her even though he had never seen her before. When he looked up, Steve's eyes were on the ground.

"What's her name?" Tony asked, infatuated.

"Morgan."

Tony nodded and closed the sketchbook, "it's probably best for both of us if I don't know who she is."

Steve simply nodded a look of pure guilt and sadness on his face.

"Hey, look at me," Tony said, placing his hands on either sides of Steve's face, "It doesn't matter what happened in your past- well the future I guess, but that's not important- it matters what we have now, and I'm fairly sure you and your Tony didn't get this."

"No, no we didn't."

"Then we have our own future to make, Steve," and they walked up the stairs together.

When they were both lying in bed, kissing lazily as they fell asleep, Steve finally made a confession through parted lips, "I love you."

Tony stopped kissing him and gently ran a finger over his chin. "I know."


End file.
